


You Fit Me Better

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Book Club, Dressmaker Clarke, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8169160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke measures Bellamy for a suit for his sister's wedding, featuring Abby as Clarke's unwanted wingman.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that one scene from The Dressmaker. If you haven't seen it what are you doing with your life.  
> Also this may or may not be a little bit to spite all those fics that have Abby hating Bellamy or just generally not caring about her daughter's happiness.

When Clarke first told her mom she wanted to quit med school to pursue fashion, she kind of thought Abby would be disappointed at the very least. She thought there’d be intense questions of the “Are you absolutely _sure_?” vein and that she’d have to do some pretty serious convincing.

She hadn’t expected that Abby would think it was a great idea, and she _certainly_ hadn’t foreseen Abby quitting her own job as a celebrated brain surgeon to help her daughter start up her own dress shop.

“We mightn’t even make any money,” Clarke had pointed out.

“Well, we’ll never know unless we try,” Abby had said. “Plus, we already have plenty of money. We may as well use it to enjoy our lives.”

Three months later and the shop is up and running, with Clarke in charge of designing and making the clothes, while Abby handles the money side of things. It’s actually doing pretty well too, considering. They don’t make a ton of money, but they make a profit and that’s enough for Clarke.

She mostly finds herself doing dresses for weddings, brides and guests, among other occasions, plus regular alterations on clothes people had bought from Zara or whatever. There aren’t many people who go to her for everyday clothes, except her mom’s “friend”, Diana, who ever since she came in to money has to find any way she can to show off that she has it. But Clarke is fine with that, seeing as Diana is pretty much a regular customer for her. She’ll gladly put up with the woman’s fake exterior if she keeps getting her business.

“Diana just called,” Abby tells Clarke, her displeasure evident in her voice. “She says she’ll be over to pick up her things in five minutes. I’m going to have lunch.”

“No!” Clarke hisses. “You can’t leave me here alone with her!”

“Clarke, you know I can’t stand Diana,” Abby reminds her daughter. “She’s always stirring up trouble and pretending she had nothing to do with it. Last week she tried to convince me that Wells had eloped with an Irish man and that they were living in Greece together.”

“I don’t care,” Clarke glares at her mother. “You’re staying.” Abby sighs.

“Fine, but I’m not responsible for anything I say to her,” Abby warns, and Clarke rolls her eyes. Diana walks in a minute later and Abby plasters on a fake smile, and Clarke has a matching one on her own face.

“Did you hear?” Diana says as soon as she walks into the shop, and Abby gives Clarke a look that says _see, I told you._ “Marcus was arrested last night for attempted murder.”

“Are you sure about that?” Abby asks, while Clarke goes into the back room to fetch Diana’s latest lot of clothes.

“Of course I’m sure! Why would I make something like that up?” Diana says, sounding hurt.

“I don’t know, why would you?” Abby says pointedly. “Clarke, do you need any help back there?” she calls.

“No, mom!” Clarke calls back, grabbing the bundle of clothes and returning to the front register.

“Clarke, are you seeing anyone?” Diana asks as she pulls out her credit card. Clarke is tempted to lie, just to get Diana off her back, but she figures Diana probably already knows the answer anyway.

“No, I’m not,” Clarke replies, taking the credit card from Diana and putting the sale through.

“You should come to my dinner party on Thursday evening,” Diana offers. “There will be some eligible young men there.” Clarke kind of wants to tell Diana she’s gay, which isn’t strictly true, but it would make Diana shut up.

“I have book club on Thursday nights, sorry,” Clarke tells her, with as much faux disappointment as she can muster.

“Surely you can miss it once,” Diana suggests.

“She couldn’t possibly miss book club,” Abby says, and Clarke worries at the mischievous glint in Abby’s eye. “Though I don’t think it’s the books she’s interested in.”

“Ooh, got your eye on someone, have you?” Diana asks, suddenly intrigued. Clarke swears she could kill her mother.

“I go for the books,” she asserts, shooting Abby a look.

“Sure you do,” Diana says patronizingly. Clarke hands Diana’s credit card back, thankful this transaction is over.

“See you next time,” Clarke smiles, and Diana seems to get the hint and leaves.

“Maybe you could invite your boyfriend to Diana’s dinner party,” Abby suggests, enjoying this way too much.

“Not going to happen,” Clarke huffs.

“I know, you’re far to chicken to make a move,” Abby shrugs.

“Like you can talk,” Clarke scoffs. “Aren’t you still waiting for one Marcus Kane to profess his undying love for you?”

“That’s completely unfounded,” Abby retorts.

“Sure, mom,” Clarke smirks.  

-

Abby’s not entirely wrong about Clarke’s reasons for going to book club. Of course, she _joined_ the book club because of the books. But she probably keeps going back for other reasons. Namely, Bellamy Blake.

They always sit next to each other, and they usually have similar opinions on whatever they’re reading, and they can chat about other stuff beside the books as well, so she considers them friends. Clarke just isn’t sure how to move that friendship from book club to another setting.

The book they’re discussing this week is called Summer at Mount Hope, and has been described as an Australian Pride and Prejudice, but in Clarke’s opinion it doesn’t really live up to Jane Austen at all. In fact, most of the books that have been picked by the book club Clarke has found dull as hell, apart from when it was Bellamy’s turn to pick and he chose Gone Girl.

“I can’t even remember anything that happened in the book, it was so boring,” Bellamy whispers to Clarke as Harper, the one who picked the current book, rambles on about how romantic it is.

“When it’s my turn, I’m picking Harry Potter,” Clarke whispers back.

“Predictable,” Bellamy smirks.

“What would you suggest then?”

“Anything as long as it’s not by John Green,” Bellamy chuckles.

“What’s wrong with John Green?”

“He once stole the parking space I had my eye on,” Bellamy grins and Clarke can’t help but snort in laughter.

“Something you’d like to share?” Cage glares at the two of them. He considers himself the head of the book club, even though Harper was actually the one to start it.

“Just thinking about the part in the book where… what’s the main character’s name again?” Clarke looks to Bellamy, who just laughs at her and is absolutely no help at all.

“Perhaps you two had better give this weeks meeting a miss. Clarke, start thinking about what book you want to choose. And if it’s Harry Potter you’re out of the club,” Cage tells her.

“Told you,” Bellamy says smugly. “Predictable.” Clarke rolls her eyes and grabs her bag before she and Bellamy exit Harper’s living room.

“I don’t think Cage is going to be happy with whatever book I pick,” Clarke sighs as they head outside to their respective cars.

“Baby Sitters Club,” Bellamy suggests, and Clarke gives him a playful shove. “What? They’re great books.”

“I’ll think about it,” Clarke shakes her head, the smile she’s trying to hide tickling the corners of her lips.

“Hey, so you’re a dressmaker, right?” Bellamy asks.

“Yeah,” Clarke nods.

“Do you by any chance do men’s clothing? Like a suit or something? Because my sister’s wedding is coming up and I haven’t got one. And I figured I should get a really good one, you know?”

“I could do that,” Clarke nods, getting that fluttery feeling in her stomach, because now she’s going to see him _outside_ of book club. Sure, it’s still not exactly just the two of them hanging out. But it’s progress. “You can come around to the shop next week and I’ll measure you up. Maybe Tuesday? I don’t have any other appointments that day. I’ll even give you a discount.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bellamy shakes his head.

“Please, I owe you for the amazing book suggestions you’ve been giving me,” Clarke tells him and he chuckles softly.

“Fifty Shades of Grey,” he says.

“Goodnight, Bellamy!” Clarke says, getting into her car as he laughs uncontrollably at his own joke.

-

Clarke tries to act nonchalant about the whole thing in front of Abby, but if there’s one person who can always see right through Clarke it’s her mom.

“Why are you so jumpy today?” Abby asks after watching Clarke almost leap out of her skin every time the chime on the front door of the shop rings.

“I’m not,” Clarke lies. “On a totally unrelated matter, someone is coming in for a fitting later.”

“Someone?” Abby raises an eyebrow.

“A man actually, so that’s good, hopefully if it goes well I can expand my client base. We don’t get many men in here so—,” she knows she waffling, and Abby can obviously tell too.

“Clarke,” Abby interrupts. “Would this man happen to be a man from book club?”

“No,” Clarke says stubbornly, and Abby gives her a pointed look. “Yes. He needs a suit for his sister’s wedding.”

“Convenient,” Abby smirks and Clarke swears she could kill her.

“Please don’t say anything embarrassing,” Clarke begs.

“I promise nothing,” Abby says.

“I can fire you, you know,” Clarke threatens. Abby rolls her eyes. “Or maybe Marcus Kane would like to know how you changed coffee shops to the one he goes to just so you can see him every morning.”

“I only go there because it’s closer to the shop,” Abby sniffs and Clarke just raises her eyebrows. “I won’t say anything embarrassing,” Abby sighs. Clarke hopes she can believe her.

Bellamy comes in around one and Clarke practically beams at him when he walks through the door.

“Hey,” he says, and Clarke wishes she felt as casual as he sounds.

“Hey,” she replies, and she’s probably going to say something else, but Abby walks in from the back room carrying a clipboard and a measuring tape.

“I thought I heard a man’s voice,” Abby smiles. “You must be Bellamy. I’m Abby, Clarke’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you, Abby. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Bellamy smiles, always so charming, and he catches Clarke’s eye.

“And I’ve heard a lot about you,” Abby replies.

“No you haven’t,” Clarke protests firmly. “She hasn’t,” she says to Bellamy, but Bellamy just laughs.

“Come on, let’s get you measured up,” Abby says, gesturing for Bellamy to head out to the back room. Bellamy does as he’s bid and Clarke snatches the measuring tape and clipboard from her mother’s hands as she follows him.

“Okay, just stand up straight and look straight ahead,” Clarke tells Bellamy once the three of them are in the back room.

“He needs to take his clothes off first,” Abby reminds her. Not that she’d forgotten, of course. She just feels weird asking him to take his clothes off. And she can measure him perfectly fine with his clothes _on_. Sure, it’s better if the client is in their underwear, more accurate. But she can’t ask _him_ to strip off, even though she _really_ wants him to. But that’s probably a good reason why he shouldn’t.

“Oh, okay,” Bellamy shrugs, about to take his shirt off.

“No!” Clarke exclaims and he stops. “You don’t need to do that. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? It’s really fine,” he assures her.

“You ask everyone else to take their clothes off,” Abby points out.

“ _If_ they’re comfortable doing so,” Clarke says through gritted teeth.

“Which he is,” Abby says stubbornly. “Right, Bellamy?”

“Right,” Bellamy grins.

“Okay,” Clarke relents, knowing she’s probably going to regret this decision. She busies herself with writing Bellamy’s name on the client sheet while he takes his clothes off, but she can kind of see him out the corner of her eye and it takes her three goes to spell his name right.

“Ready,” Bellamy says and Clarke takes a deep breath before looking up. She’s still not prepared. Look, she’d known he was good looking, and she had some idea that he might have a good body. But this is just _ridiculous_. His chest is broad and hard, his abs defined and as her gaze drops lower she’s pretty sure she can see a bulge in his briefs that doesn’t look like it’s anything to be ashamed of. He looks like he should be on the cover of a romance novel.

She can feel her whole body grow hot and her heart rate speed up and she knows she’s staring and her mouth is probably hanging open, but it’s honestly not her fault. She’s only human. She blushes when she manages to meet his eyes and sees him watching her smugly.

“Right, um,” Clarke stammers, and she’s been doing this job for months now but for the life of her she can’t remember what to do next.

“The clipboard, Clarke,” Abby reminds her, sounding far too amused for Clarke’s liking.

“Right,” Clarke says, handing her mother the clipboard.

“Start with his chest,” Abby instructs her and that’s exactly what Clarke wants to do, except she’d rather do it with her tongue, somewhere a lot more private. She manages to gather herself enough to step towards him and wrap the tape measure around his chest. She can feel the heat radiating from his body she’s so close to him, and he smells really good. She can tell he’s looking at her, but she avoids eye contact because she needs to be professional right now, partly because it’s her job but mostly because her mother is standing right there.

“Stop looking at me,” she whispers. “You have to look straight ahead or it won’t be right.”

“Sorry,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke reads out the number on the tape measure and Abby writes it down.

“Neck,” Abby prompts and Clarke wraps the tape measure around his neck, reading out the number for Abby to write down again.

“Waist,” Abby reads and Clarke swallows, glancing at him before dropping down to her knees. She wonders if Bellamy’s thoughts are as wayward as her own. Clarke reads out the measurement again, somehow making her voice come out steady. Clarke looks at her mom, waiting for the next instruction, only to see Abby smirking at her.

“Mom,” Clarke says warningly and Abby quickly glances back down at the sheet again.

“Shoulder to wrist,” she reads, and Bellamy holds out his hand to help Clarke up. She takes his offer, though her hands are likely sweaty and gross, and somehow the rest of the fitting runs smoothly.

“I’ll go and put this in the system,” Abby says once they’re done, walking back out to the front desk.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” Clarke says awkwardly, making to leave.

“Hold on,” Bellamy stops her. “It’ll only take a second.” Clarke nods, staying put but looking anywhere but at him while he puts his clothes back on.

“So, um,” Clarke says, clearing her throat. “Did you want to look at some styles and materials, or do you trust me?”

“I trust you,” Bellamy grins. He’s dressed now and he kind of saunters over to her.

“Cool, so, I can have it ready in a week,” Clarke starts. “It would be sooner but I’ve got some other--,”

“Clarke,” Bellamy interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking, I really like you and I think we should hang out outside of book club,” Bellamy suggests.

“Oh. Yeah, me too,” Clarke agrees, trying not to smile too much. It’s just hanging out. Not like a _date_ or anything. She needs to get a grip.

“Maybe at my sister’s wedding?” he says hesitantly. Oh. So maybe exactly like a date.

“Like… as your date?” Clarke verifies.

“That would be preferable,” Bellamy grins.

“Okay,” Clarke agrees, and she’s pretty sure she’s mirroring the idiotic grin he has on his face. “Do you want to go on another date before then?”

“I really do,” Bellamy laughs.

“If we quit book club we can go out on Thursday,” Clarke says. “I was really only going so I could see you anyway.”

“But I thought of the perfect book for you,” Bellamy tells her.

“If it’s Twilight I will murder you,” she warns.

“It’s not Twilight,” Bellamy promises. “It’s Breaking Dawn.”

“Our date is officially cancelled,” Clarke says.

“Thursday then?” Bellamy raises an eyebrow.

“Thursday,” Clarke agrees. They walk back into the main area of the shop together and Clarke walks him to the door. She really wants to kiss him and if the way he’s staring at her lips is any indication she thinks he might want to kiss her too. But she’s aware Abby is watching them so she just reminds herself she’ll be able to kiss him as much as she wants on Thursday.

“Just so you know, I only went to book club to see you too,” Bellamy admits. “See you Thursday.” He glances back at Abby and gives a wave before leaving the store.

“You’re welcome,” Abby says, once he’s left the shop.

“You did nothing,” Clarke snorts. “And by the way, you broke your promise so now I’m going to call Marcus Kane and tell him how in love with him you are.”  

Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever seen her mother look more panicked in her life.


End file.
